


Heartbeat

by writerllofllworlds



Series: Nothing's Gone Forever, Only Out of Place [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Crying, Death, Gen, Hurt, Irondad, Not Canon Compliant, Pain, So much angst, This is not Happy, Whump, ironman - Freeform, not an endgame fix-it, prepare to cry, spiderman - Freeform, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-04-24 12:27:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19173274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerllofllworlds/pseuds/writerllofllworlds
Summary: “The world needs Tony Stark.” Peter rasped, swallowing down blood and bile. “The world will always need Tony Stark.”“What about you?” he snapped. “What about Peter Parker?”“The world doesn’t need me.”Tony opened his eyes, the tears there making Peter’s heart twist. “But I need you.”





	1. Each Moment Since You Went Away Dear

               “Parker.”

               Peter cringed at the booming voice. Damn, did he have to be so loud?

               “Parker. Wake up, Parker. We have to move now, and I _will_ leave you on this planet if you don’t get off your ass in the next minute.”

               Wait. He knew that voice. The world came into focus with a horrifyingly bright quality as his senses readjusted to the light of Titan’s sky. Dread bottled up in his stomach as his brain finally started working and the pain of _resurrecting from the dead_ hit him full force.

               “ _Shit_.” He hissed, grabbing his stomach. Oh, god, this was worse than the week after his spider bite. “What happened?”

               Dr. Strange helped him to his feet, his grip surprisingly gentle after his less than kind words. “We have to get moving. You were the last one to return and we have to get moving. Tony’s going to need us. It’s been five years and-”

               “Mr. Stark?” _please sir, I don’t want to go_. “Where is he?”

               Peter began to look around wildly. He had to protect Mr. Stark. He had seen him not two minutes ago when he was … dying. The Guardians of the Universe or whatever they were called all stood around, clapping each other on the back. He had seen each of them die. “Wait… I-,”

               “We don’t have time to address that whole ordeal, kid.” Strange grabbed his shoulders and met his concerned gaze. “We have to help save the world.”

                Peter sobered and nodded resolutely, pushing his worries down into his gut. He could deal with them later when the world was safe. “Okay.”

                The sorcerer offered a small smile and turned to the guardians. “Let’s go. They’ll be needing as much help as they can get.”

                And then the portal opened.

                Peter let the others run in first, opting to swing through Titan’s crumbling landscape and land in front of them. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t _that_.

                A wave of nasty was in front of them, across a battlefield of fire and destruction. Above the aliens were warships, ready to rain chaos down on the heroes. There was an expanse of no man’s land, quiet and bloodless.

               There was Steve Rogers. And he had his shield.

               All around him, portals were opening. Heroes of all shapes and sizes, from earth or not, emerged from each one. Some flew, some ran. Many were wielding rings like Dr. Strange, there was Mr. Black Panther and _was that the Winter Solider_ -?

              Dr. Strange looked to the left. “Is that all of them?”

              Another wizard looked at him like he was insane. “What, you wanted more?”

              The sound of crumbling concrete had Peter’s head whirling around. A building that looked like the compound – oh my god it was – fell away as Giant Man grew to the size of, well, a giant. With each new hero that he saw, Peter’s heart grew. They could do this. They could beat Thanos.

              Across the expanse, the purple grape sneered, but for the first time since laying eyes on him, Peter wasn’t afraid.

              Captain America’s voice rang out over the throng. “Avengers!”

              A hush, but Peter’s superhearing wasn’t about to let him down now.

              “Assemble.”

              And then? Then they charged.

              Peter grinned behind his mask and jumped.

              Immediately, he was in the fray. Aliens and monsters that looked like deranged versions of the monsters under his bed as a kid fought like ravenous beasts. Wizards and ninjas and flying robots were everywhere, the world’s greatest united force against the evil that Thanos had brought, and Peter was among them! He saw Thor throw an axe (?) at a big scaley dude. Captain America was going toe-to-toe with Thanos. Hulk was to his right beating up some relative of his – tall and green and angry. And above him, in the skies, was Iron Man.

             Relief flooded him. “Mr. Stark!” he yelled as he dodged a punch, quickly replying with his own. The alien dropped. The hero hadn’t heard him but instead lurched to the side to fight another beast. Peter followed, taking down as many enemies as he could along the way.

             It was selfish, he knew that, but he had to see him.

 _It’s been five years and_ -

            Antman was right next to him as he webbed the alien attacking Tony. The giant stepped on him and Peter swung into view, mask dissolving as he helped his hero to stand. “Hey! Holy cow. You will not believe what’s been going on.” Now that Tony was there and Peter was looking into his eyes and he was alive and okay, Peter couldn’t seem to stop talking. “Do you remember when we were in space? And I got all dusty? And I must have passed out because when I woke up you were gone-”

           Man, Mr. Stark was looking at him weirdly.

           “-But Dr. Strange was there right? And he was like ‘it’s been five years, come on, they need us!’”

           Like, really weird. Like he was going to cry.

           “And then he started doing the yellow sparkly thing that he does all the time-,”

           “Oh yeah.” Tony grabbed him, arms pulling him against his chest.

           “What are you doing?” Peter asked, and somehow the man didn’t need to answer. The young hero knew. He sighed, wrapping his arms around the man in response, letting a little of the worry roll of his shoulders as he sighed into the hug. God, how long had he wanted one of these? He closed his eyes, and for a moment nothing mattered. The battle raged around them and the world’s salvation was at stake, but here in Tony’s arms, he was home.

           “Oh.” He said lamely. “This is nice.”

            Tony held him for a moment longer before turning his head and kissing Peter’s cheek. “Missed you, Pete.”

            Peter didn’t know why tears leapt to his eyes. He simply hugged Mr. Stark back harder before pulling away and ignoring the tears in those matching irises. “I’m still an Avenger, right?”

            The man’s face lit up and Peter wondered if it really had been five years since he’d heard any of Peter’s dismal attempts at humor. “Pfft. Yeah. Yeah, kid, you’re still an Avenger. Now come on. The world’s in need of some Avenging.”

            The young hero nodded and tried to ward off the feeling of dread that was slowly creeping up his spine. He met Tony’s gaze and hoped that he sounded as sincere as he felt. “Be careful, Mr. Stark.”

            Something flashed in his mentor’s eyes and he let out a shaky breath. “You too, kid.”

           And then, both of their helmets reformed and with loud yells of triumph, they launched back into the fight.

           Peter hardly remembered anything that happened next. All he knew was get the gauntlet to the car and keep the gauntlet out of enemy hands. Everything else was a blur of awesome heroes, Captain calling him Queens, a giant team of badass women, and a shockwave.

            He landed on the ground harshly, pain spiking through his body and he yelped. Shaking his head as his ears rang, he stumbled to his feet, eyes searching for his mentor. His eyes landed on Thanos, who was currently battling Thor and Steve. Peter sprinted in that direction, his stomach falling to his feet as both heroes were thrown to the ground. Cap was pummeled, unmoving on the ground. Thor had been thrown to the side. One of the cool ladies from before was trying to wrangle Thanos, but she too was unable to beat him.

            In the chaos, the golden gauntlet that Peter was starting to really hate was yeeted off of Thanos’s hand.

            And landed right at Peter Parker’s feet.

            He looked up in shock. Thanos was staring at him in rage, but beyond him, Dr. Strange was holding back an ocean. His eyes were wide but unyielding.

            He held up a single finger.

           Peter heard the Titan’s feet begin to thunder against the dirt towards him, but he paid him no heed. The purple grape would never win. Not now, not ever.

            He picked up the gauntlet.

            It was too big for his hand, honestly. He lifted it upwards, and a golden glint caught his eye beyond the shining stones.

            Peter stared at him across the battlefield. Thanos was running at him, but the teenager barely saw him. He only saw the pair of brown eyes, oh so similar to his own that he suddenly understood how people thought that Tony was his dad. He saw so many emotions there: regret, terror, anger, disbelief, love – and wasn’t that last one a surprise? Or was it?

            Because of course Tony Stark loved him.

            “I got this, Mr. Stark.” He whispered, but even across the chaos, he knew that his hero – his _dad_ – could hear him.

            “ _Tony_.” He breathed, and he couldn’t help the smile that slipped across his lips. “Tony, it’s going to be okay.”

            Mr. Stark was shaking his head vehemently and struggling to his feet, the broken Iron Man suit making it difficult for him to gain any ground. Thanos was closing in, but Peter just kept looking at his idol, the man he had looked up to since he was a baby it seemed, the man who had grown to be his mentor and then slowly evolved into the man who threw Skittles at his head and picked him up after school. Who held his body as he died and stared at him like his entire world was ending.

            “I’ve got this, Tony.” he said.

            _I love you_.

            Peter didn’t feel any of the pain when he snapped. He only saw the eyes of his hero, filled with a love for him that conquered all of his fears. He was safe.

            There was a blinding flash and he heard himself scream. And then nothing.

            He opened his eyes just as his body gave out. The pain that had disappeared in the face of Tony Stark’s heart appeared in full force when he lost sight of him. He fell back against some structure, his body shaking with the overwhelming ache of death.

            His teeth chattered as he swallowed. All around him, Thanos’s army was becoming dust. Dust in the wind with no power and no sound. His heart wasn’t beating so loudly anymore, and he watched the things that had come to destroy them be destroyed. Monsters flying from the sky disintegrated right before swallowing War Machine. A group of wizards were battling a cave troll one second and then were brandishing sparkling circles against the ash-filled air the next.

            It was over.

            Peter watched Thanos look around in fear. He met Peter’s eyes. Peter held them until he disappeared.

            He sighed, the sound rattling around his lungs. He was tired.

“Hey, Karen?” he croaked. His voice was dust on the wind, but he knew the AI could hear him.

            “Yes, Peter?”

            He hummed happily at her voice, maybe the last voice he ever heard. He had always loved Karen’s voice. She sounded what Peter thought his mom might have sounded like. “Activate the Peter Pan protocol, okay?”

            “ _Last we spoke of the Peter Pan protocol, I promised not to activate it until your death, Peter. There is still time to_ -,”

            “Karen.” He rasped, trying to push himself up against the fallen structure and failing. His body wasn’t responding to him anymore. He couldn’t feel his legs. It was like everything was shutting down bit by bit. An icy chill had begun to make its way up his spine. Soon enough it would reach his heart and… “Please.”

            “ _Alright, Peter_.”

            “Thanks, Karen.”

            “ _Of course, Peter_.” And even in her robotic programming, he could hear the little ‘I love you.’ If Peter thought about it just enough, he could see Mr. Stark’s fond smile as he designed such a response.

            “ _Peter_?!”

            Well, that was an awful sound he never wished to hear again. The heart-wrenching scream echoed the battlefield like a gunshot, filling the heavy silence with an even heavier horror. But what was worse was that Peter knew that voice. He would know that voice anywhere.

            “Misser Stark?” his words started slurring together. He could hear the clinks of the Iron Man armor and he cracked open his eyes (when had he closed them?) to the beautiful sight of that golden and red suit, come to save him one last time.

            “Oh my god, Peter.” Tony’s face was contorted into a mixture of terror and torment. Peter wished he could lift his hand to smooth out the creases between his brows, but he could barely feel his shoulders anymore. His hands were useless now. “Fuck, _fuck_ , kiddo. Hey, hey, can you hear me?”

            Peter found the strength to reply. “Yeah.”

            “What the hell were you thinking? Huh?” the words were angry, the tone was harsh, but the hands in his hair were gentle. “I tell you to be careful and you go and pull shit like this? Fuck, kid, what am I going to do with you?”

            He was being held. Tony grabbed his cheeks in his hands and held them like a child. And god, he was, wasn’t he? He was sixteen years old. An hour ago he had been dead, and now he was… he was going to…

            He was going to die again. And they couldn’t reverse this one.

            “Tell May.” He breathed. “Tell May I’m sorry.”

            Tony flinched and shook his head. More heroes were appearing behind him, but Peter only had eyes for the inventor. “You’ll tell her yourself, okay? We’re going to get you back to the compound and when you’re all better she can join us for movie night, okay? Okay, Peter?!”

            “Mr. Stark…”

            “Yeah, kiddie?” oh, it was kiddie now. He liked that.

            “We won, Mr. Stark.”

            Tony’s face crumbled even as he tried to smile. The mask of anger melted away and the tears appeared. “Yeah, kiddie, you did it. You did it, Pete.”

            Peter swallowed again, his chuckle turning into a cough halfway.

            “We’re going to get you help, okay, Pete? Peter?”

            He blinked. The chill was up to his neck. “Mr. Stark?”

            “Tony, kid. Call me Tony. Please.”

            “Tony.” Peter rolled the name across his tongue while he still could. “I love you.”

            His hero sobbed. It was a horrible sound, worse than the sound of the falling warehouse or the screams of the people on the ferry. Worse than the sound of people becoming dust beside him. Worse than the sound of the gun that killed his uncle.

            “Fuck, kid, don’t do this. Don’t you do this to me.”

            “Thank you.” He whispered. “Thank you for everything.”

            “Kid, listen, we’ll get help, alright?” Tony pulled Peter closer and touched their foreheads together. His hands were warm against the teenager’s cold skin and they shook as his thumbs traced circles against his cheeks. “Strange’ll be here any second and he’ll fix you right up. Don’t be scared.”

            Peter smiled. “I’m not.”

            And he wasn’t. He was in the arms of his dad. How could he possibly be scared?

            “It should have been me, Peter.”

            He found himself moving his head slowly, a poor excuse for a shake. “No.”

            “Yes.” Tony hissed.

            “The world needs Tony Stark.” Peter rasped, swallowing down blood and bile. “The world will always need Tony Stark.”

            “What about you?” he snapped. “What about Peter Parker?”

            “The world doesn’t need me.”

            Tony opened his eyes, the tears there making Peter’s heart twist. “But I need you.”

            “We won, Tony.” He said quietly, trying to console the man one last time. “We won.”

            Tony sobbed again, and a tear hit Peter’s nose.

            “’love you.”

            The hero shook his head furiously. “I love you too, baby. Fuck, I love you so much, kid.”

            Baby? oh, he liked that. He liked that more than kiddie. It made him feel like someone’s child again. Like someone loved him.

            And Tony did. Tony loved him so much.

           “Don’t close your eyes, okay, baby? Yeah? Don’t close your eyes.” He kept thumbing circles on his cheeks. He was so warm and safe and Peter didn’t wish to be anywhere else in the world. 

           “Won’t.”

           “Just stay awake, Peter.” Tony whimpered and wasn’t that a weird sound to hear from the great Tony Stark. “Just stay awake. Just stay-.” He choked, hands gripping Peter’s cheeks just a little tighter as if he could keep Peter alive longer just by sheer force of will. “Just _stay_ , baby. Don’t leave me.”

           “Won’t,” Peter repeated. “Always be here.”

           “I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so so _sorry_.”

           Peter swallowed and found his voice gone. Everything was getting fuzzy. He only had seconds left. He wondered if he was going to see his mom and dad, his uncle. He hoped wherever he was going was as safe as Tony’s arms. He hoped wherever he was going he was as happy as he was right now.

           “Peter?” Tony looked up at him, moving away just an inch to meet his eyes. “Peter? _Baby_?”

           He forced his vocal cords to work one last time.

           “Dad…?”

           Peter could hear his heartbeat slowing down.

_Ba-bump… ba-bump… ba-bump… ba-bump…_

           “Peter? Hey, hey, stay with me, okay?”

_Ba-bump… ba-bump… ba-bump…_

           “I’m right here, baby. Yeah? Dad’s right here. I’m never leaving you again, you hear me? I’m sticking to you like glue. I’m moving you to the compound and I’m sleeping in your room and we’ll have joint labs and we’ll- we’ll-,”

            Peter hoped he was smiling. He wanted to smile.

            “Pete?”

            _Ba-bump… ba-bump_ …

            “It’s okay, baby. We’ll be okay.”

            _Ba-bump_ …

            “You can rest now.”

           Silence. Peter Parker's eyes fluttered to a close. 

 

           

 

           

.

 

 

             

            "Hi, Ms. Romonoff! I'm Peter. Peter Parker.”


	2. Gone But Not Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter. That was Peter’s voice.  
> Tony had never turned around so quickly in his life. There, on a holographic screen, was Peter Parker. Any chance of Tony going to bed and not sobbing his eyes out until morning was immediately shot in the head at the image of his kid, alive.  
> “Hi, Mr. Stark!”  
> No, no, don’t do that. Don’t do this to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People wanted to know what the Peter Pan Protocol was.  
> Well, here.  
> I hope this helps after the last chapter.  
> Thank you all so much for the lovely comments! It means so much that you guys would take the time and say something about this little thing I've written. Love you all so much!  
> I don't own Marvel or Irondad and Spiderson. I'm just a fan.

The battlefield was too quiet.

“Peter.” Tony gently shook him. “ _Peter_.”

The boy didn’t answer. His head, scarred and burned from wielding the gauntlet, tilted to the side slightly as his mentor shook him again. “Parker. Peter Parker _wake up_.”

He didn’t respond. His chest didn’t rise. No breath escaped his busted lips.

Tony, however, was breathing very well. In fact, his breath was coming so quickly he didn’t realize he was starting to have a panic attack until Rhodey’s hand settled on his shoulder and his friend urged, “Breathe, Tones. You need to breathe.”

Breathe? _Breathe_? How the _fuck_ could he – did Rhodey not understand what – breathe?

Peter Parker was never supposed to be this still. Peter Parker was all bounce and energy and life. He was laughter and hope and the future. He was the only reason Tony had even contemplated time travel in the first place. He was the only reason that any of the “dusted” were back at all!

“Tony, you need to breathe. Come on, man, he wouldn’t have died for you only for you to turn around and go into cardiac arrest.”

Not the right thing to say. “He’s not dead.”

“Tony…” Steve’s voice was soft, and everything was wrong. Peter’s rapidly paling skin, his blue-tinted lips, the way his heart made no sound under Tony’s fingertips. How could he be so calm? How could anyone breathe?

The very thing that Tony had begged God to send back to him, the only person that Tony cared came back at all, was still in his arms. His son…

_“Dad.”_

Peter had called him Dad. “Fuck.”

“Tony-,”

“No.” he shook his head. “No, no. Peter, _wake up_! Now! That is an order, young man. I didn’t make you that kickass suit just for you to only wear it once you little shit-,” he sobbed, crumbled even farther into his son’s body. He gripped the body so tightly he would have left bruises. He smelled the same smell that he had five years prior, on that spaceship. His skin was soft ~~and cold, oh so cold,~~ none of the wrinkles that he should have developed after years and years of laughter. “Peter! PETER!”

There were hands on his shoulders, trying to pull him away from the corpse, but Tony let out a blood-curdling scream and dragged the body unbearably closer. He was getting blood on his suit – Peter’s blood. Peter’s sixteen-year-old blood that was shed for him.

_“I’ve got this, Mr. Stark.”_

“No.” Tony sobbed, clawing his fingers through Peter’s hair, soft and familiar. How had he never done this before? Why had he never held his son like this? Why had he passed up this wonderful feeling of having Peter in his arms, safe and whole and _home_? “No, Peter, come back.”

_“Tony. Tony, it’s going to be okay.”_

“No!” Tony shook his head against the boy’s head, rocking back and forth, trying to convince himself that the trembling was from Peter’s body and not his own. “No, Peter. Pete, kiddo. Come back to me. Please, Peter…”

“ _I’ve got this, Tony_.”

“Tony, he’s gone,” Rhodey whispered like he was trying to calm a wounded animal. And wasn’t that what Tony was? A mama bear, holding the broken and bloody body of his cub? His baby? he was supposed to come home with him. He – he was supposed to come back and meet Morgan, to sing her songs with his strangely angelic voice and tell her stories of Spiderman and Ironman’s adventures and tuck her in at night! He was supposed to hug May again and build Lego Deathstars with Ned! He was supposed to go out with that scary MJ girl like he always talked about and get married and have kids. “Tony. Tony, there’s nothing you can do.”

He was supposed to be Tony’s _son_. He was supposed to come back to him so that he could finally let Tony love him.

The hero shook his head, the soft skin of his son’s cheek rubbing against his own. “I can still save him. Get- get Strange and make him use the fucking time stone. Get him to save him, Rhodey. Get him to save my son!”

He heard the rare sound of James Rhodes’s sob. “We can’t, Tones. You know that. He sacrificed his life for-,”

“IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ME!” Tony screamed, the suit’s metal breaking the skin of his knuckles as he tore at Peter’s back. Maybe, just maybe, if he held him tight enough he could take some of Tony’s life and just come back.

He sobbed, his throat aching at the pain of all his cries. He didn’t care. “It was supposed to be _me_. He _died_ for _me_.”

“And he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

Tony hated Rhodey in that second. He hated the truth behind the statement too. Peter Benjamin Parker, who was all heart eyes and a kind smile and even kinder soul. Who was clumsy feet but steady hands, stuttering words but steady voice. Who was helping the little guy and saving cats from trees. Who was his son and his baby and his future and now he was a dead weight in Tony’s arms, cold and still and _dead_.

Peter Benjamin Parker, who would willingly do it all over again in a heartbeat, if it meant that Tony lived just one more day.

The heroes around them kept multiplying. All of the returned, all of the ones that had remained. Ones he’d met and ones he’d never seen before. All of them had risked their skin to save the world.

Tony couldn’t care less.

Not when his world had died anyway.

“We won, Peter.” Tony hiccupped as he pulled back to card his hands through the boy’s hair. The wayward curls were so soft underneath his fingertips. “We won. You did it, Pete. You did it.”

Nothing.

“Peter?”

Silence.

“Baby?” Tony tried again. He didn’t know how suitable the endearment was until he’d used it. It was so Peter. It was what he called Morgan when she was younger, but Peter was Tony’s first baby, even if he hadn’t realized it then. Peter was the kid who had lost everything except his Aunt and was still good. He was still trying to save people. Instead of letting his losses make him brittle and cold, he became the biggest hearted little shit that Tony had ever been blessed to meet.

“Fuck, Peter.” Tony pulled back again and looked at his face through teary vision. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby.”

No one tried to move the hero, but he heard them start to walk away. To return to their normal lives, to greet loved ones and thank newcomers for saving their lives.

“Don’t leave me, Peteypie.” All of the nicknames that Tony’s heart had wanted to use yet his mind had never allowed. The sweet endearments that truly expressed how much Tony adored this kid. “I can’t do this again, Peter. I can’t lose you again.”

“Tony.” Pepper’s soothing voice appeared at his back and he shuddered.

This feeling was horrible. God, it was five years ago all over again except worse. It was so much worse, and Tony didn’t even know why. Everything was burning and so cold all at once and he couldn’t do anything but sob. He shook with the amount of pain he was feeling. He was boiling with anger and rage and torment and horror and agony. This torrid of emotions was making him physically _sick_.

His hands trembled as he held the boy, this precious kid, and stroked his chilled cheeks. “I love you, Peter. You hear me? I love you so much, baby.”

Pepper’s hand on his shoulder grounded him.

“Do you think he knew?” he can’t die without knowing how much I love him, Pep. Please tell me he knew.

“Of course, Tony. He knew that the first time too. He knows, Tony. I promise you he does.”

It wasn’t better. That didn’t fix anything, but-but maybe that tiny little bit of peace that surged through Tony then was enough to get off the ground. And that was enough for now.

Tony watched Peter’s face for a few moments, or maybe it was hours. He didn’t care. He had such a young face, and he still had baby fat around his cheeks. It always appeared in full bloom whenever he smiled. He took a staggering breath and swallowed the sob that threatened to escape his throat.

“Hey, Pete, if you see Natasha, tell her hello for us, okay?”

He didn’t let anyone else carry Peter’s body back to the compound. He held him the entire trek, steeling himself against the pitying gazes and mournful words. He didn’t say anything to anyone as he laid the boy on the bed in the medbay. He didn’t cry when they stripped him of the Iron Spider suit. He barely registered Steve and Pepper and Rhodey all saying their goodnights and leaving him alone.

A song from the silly musical that Peter had made him listen to once appeared in his mind. Without his bidding, his lips were moving to the lyrics, only changing one key detail.

“Oh Peter, when you smile, I am undone, my son. Look at my son,” his voice was raspy and hoarse, but his heart needed this. He needed to sing this because he wasn’t sure if he could say it. “Pride is not the word I’m looking for. There is so much more inside me now. Oh, Peter, you outshine the morning sun, my _son_.”

The sobs he had been keeping at bay returned as quiet weeping. He curled up next to Peter on the hospital bed, hand gently stroking the boy’s cheek as he serenaded him one last time. “When you smile, I fall apart, and I thought I was so smart. My father wasn't around. I swear that I'll be around for you. I'll do whatever it takes. I’ll- I’ll …”

He couldn’t finish. Instead, he laid there and held the boy who was his son in everything but name and mourned the years that he would never get to call him such.

It must have been years later when Tony forced himself to get up. He pulled his hands away from Peter’s cold skin and stood, the boy’s suit in his arms.

He looked peaceful.

_“I just wanted to be like you.”_

_“And I wanted you to be better.”_

“You were always better, Peter.”

Tony pulled the sheet over his baby’s face and left the room.

The stars were out. Heroes were crashed on the couches and the floor, exhausted after fighting for their lives. Tony briefly thought about how many pizzas he was going to need to order the next morning if he could pull himself out of his mourning enough to remember such a thing. Steve and Bucky were seated at the kitchen counter as Tony walked by. Neither said a word, but their gazes showed they understood.

He made his way up to the lab and threw the suit onto one of the tables.

There was a beeping noise that made him jump and then-

“ _Karen, is it on? Okay, cool_.”

Peter. That was Peter’s voice.

Tony had never turned around so quickly in his life. There, on a holographic screen, was Peter Parker. Any chance of Tony going to bed and not sobbing his eyes out until morning was immediately shot in the head at the image of his kid, alive.

“ _Hi, Mr. Stark_!”

No, no, don’t do that. Don’t do this to me.

“ _I’m, um, making this thing_.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled in embarrassment. Tony nearly whimpered at the adorable gesture, one that now he would never see again. “ _Just in case. Karen’s going to make sure it’s only activated if I tell her to. It’s called the Peter Pan Protocol. It was one of my favorite books and there was always that quote that went ‘to die would be an awfully big adventure,’ and I just thought, hey, that’s neat. Heh_ …”

He adjusted on – was that a rooftop? He was filming this on a rooftop? – and looked back at the camera. Man, his eyes really did look like Tony’s. “ _This will be activated upon my realization that I will die. Or am dying, I guess. It’s like my will, I suppose. Well, not really my will, because I have an actual will that’s under my bed_.”

This kid wrote a will because he was a hero. A sixteen-year-old child was writing a will.

Tony didn’t know when he started crying, but it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

“ _This is more of an… emotional will, if you must_.” He chuckled on the screen, eyes crinkling, and Tony keened at the action. “ _I just wanted to be able to say a proper goodbye to you, Mr. Stark._ ”

“Tony.” He rasped, as if his pleading would change a pre-recorded video. “Call me Tony.”

Dad, he wanted to say. Call me Dad.

“ _First thing: don’t blame yourself_.” Peter smiled cheekily. “ _You and I both know how horrible your guilt complex is, Mr. Stark, so don’t blame yourself. If I died, it’s either because I’m an idiot, which is not your fault, or I was being a hero, and- and that’s how I want to go_.”

Seriousness leaked into his expression. “ _If I threw myself on a bomb or went down like my Uncle Ben… or I sacrificed myself for the world, I don’t want you to blame yourself. I chose that, Mr. Stark, and you blaming yourself would insult my memory_.”

It was said in jest; Tony knew that. It was still true.

“ _Second thing: take care of May for me.” He looked down at his fidgeting hands. “She’s already lost everybody else. I don’t know what she’ll do if I’m_ …”

Tony stepped towards the hologram, voice barely more than a croak as he said, “I promise, kid. May’ll be just fine.”

“ _I’m all she’s got, you know_?” Peter swallowed. “ _And she deserves to be happy_.”

“I got it, Pete.” Tony didn’t know why he was responding. Maybe part of him believed that if he just made enough promises that Peter would come back. Bargaining was the third stage, right?

“ _Third: don’t get rid of the suit_.” His eyes were back up, staring straight into Tony’s soul. “ _I know that sounds really weird, but that suit was like a little part of you that I got to carry around with me all the time. Even after the ferry and Thoomes, whenever I put it on I knew that you were proud of me and that I could always count on you. I knew you had my back and how much you cared_.” Peter smiled, that precious smile that he gave Tony whenever he was about to say something so annoyingly endearing. “ _And I think that you could use a little part of me too. So keep it for me, won’t ya? Who knows? Maybe your kids will want to wear it one day_.”

Morgan’s adorable face flashed across his mind and Tony closed his eyes for a second. She would never get to meet the boy that her dad talked about all the time. She would never get to see her big brother.

“ _Fourth: I hear there is a second Mary Poppins movie in the works_.”

Tony laughed. It was a shocking sound, but it bubbled up out of him like his sobs had – all at once and overwhelming. The beginning of his fourth request was so random and perfectly Peter Parker, practically perfect in every way, and this was why. this was what the Peter Pan Protocol was for. It wasn’t for Peter. It was for Tony. He had made it because he knew how Tony would react. He knew the deep-set hatred that his mentor harbored, and he knew that if he could provide closure, then he would do it any way he knew how.

“Oh, Pete…”

“ _Don’t laugh at me_.” His kid chuckled at himself despite his order. “ _I’m being serious. If Mary Poppins Returns comes out after I’m gone, watch for me, won’t you? It was my favorite live action Disney movie, which is honestly shocking seeing as my past with babysitters isn’t spotless_ ,” he laughed with a slight bitterness. “ _I loved the idea of traveling to new worlds within your own. Probably some escapism method for my early traumas or something like that. Anyway, watch it for me. I think it’ll be good_.”

Tony felt his smile settle into something deeper than mere fondness as he watched his boy. Maybe, maybe he could be okay.

“ _Fifth thing: every Mother’s Day I put daisies on my mom’s grave_.” Peter smiled sweetly, if not a bit sad. “ _Could you keep doing that for me? They’re her favorite flowers and a bouquet isn’t more than like, fifteen dollars and compared to billions, I think you could spare it._ ”

Mary Parker would never again go without daisies on Mother’s Day. Tony would see to it.

“ _Sixth: don’t stop living, Mr. Stark. Don’t stop loving people and being a hero and making really good PB and J’s and petting all the dogs we meet at the park and counting all the white cars you see on the highway. You can’t stop living, sir. You are the greatest person in the entire world, and I don’t just say that because I’m your protégé. The world would be deprived if you stopped being Tony Stark and everything that entails_.” he said it so seriously too. Obviously, he didn’t understand that it would be the hardest thing in the world to wake up to a world without Peter Parker in it.

He’d done it before though. Could he do it again?

“ _Seventhly: love yourself_.” Peter shrugged, brown eyes soft. “ _We both know you don’t do it enough, and if I’m not there then I can’t love you enough for the both of us_.”

Tony let out a breath that was trying to be a chuckle. It didn’t hurt so much as the seconds ticked on, as Peter kept on smiling.

Maybe he could.

“ _Eighth thing: I know this is getting kind of long. I hope you don’t mind.” Never. “Eighth thing is that I love you._ ”

The hero choked, clutching his chest as he hacked up the rest of his lungs, his incredibly sore throat none too happy with him.

“ _I know I don’t say it._ ” Peter looked down again, and Tony hoped that the tears in his own eyes were making the appearance in the boy’s eyes instead of real ones. “ _I’ve gotten used to losing people I care about. Saying that to you always seemed taboo, as if you would be next and I - I couldn’t do that, Mr. Stark. I can’t lose another Da- I can’t lose you too. But, um, death kind of makes all of the little stupid worries go away, doesn't it_?”

Tony laid his head back against the cold table.

“ _So might as well say it. Because I do.”_ Peter went on. _“I love you so much,_ Tony _. Don’t ever forget that_.”

“I promise.” Tony croaked.

“ _Ninth: final thing, sir, and then I’ll be out of your hair_.”

Tony didn’t want that. He wanted Peter to stay forever.

But that wasn’t life. They had both learned the hard way.

“ _Saying goodbye isn’t the hardest part of losing someone, I know. It’s having to live without them. I know it’s hard. It’s going to be hard. If I’ve done my job right, then you’ll be grieving me for years_!”

Oh, how true it was.

“ _Don’t remember me by my death, Mr. Stark_.” Peter smiled, and when he raised his eyes, they were absent of tears. “ _Remember me for the mess-ups and the tripping down the stairs. For the Hamilton songs that I got stuck in your head and the hundreds of Skittles that you threw at my head. Remember me for the hidden injuries and the late lab days that turned into cuddling on the couch nights. Remember the snowball fight on top of Stark Tower that one morning in January that made headlines; Spiderman and Iron Man duke it out during the biggest snow of the year! Remember_?”

Tony snorted, falling to his knees and then settling against the opposite lab table, his weeping silent and painful but _good_. Because there was his son, happy and alive and outshining the goddamn sun and he was beautiful. That is how Tony would choose to remember him.

“ _Remember me for the bright-eyed, annoying little shit that could never stop being a pain in your ass_.” He grinned wide and more splendid than the stars outside the windows. “ _Because that’s how I want you to. Remember me for my life, Mr. Stark_.”

“Okay.” Tony breathed, his vision starting to clear up. “ _Okay_ , Peter.”

“ _Thank you for everything, Mr. Stark_.” Peter smiled gently, all warm and fond and home. All Peter Parker.

“ _If I see your mother, I’ll tell her hello, sir. I’m sure she’s very proud of you_.”

Because when had Peter Benjamin Parker ever thought about himself? Here he was, writing his virtual death letter, and he was thinking of Tony. Of everyone but himself. God, the world had never deserved him, had it?

Perhaps the angels did. Maybe Maria had sent him down sixteen years ago, just so he could look after her wayward son.

“ _Well, you know the drill_.” Peter drummed his hands on his knees. “ _Second star to the right and straight on till morning. The whole shebang. The next big adventure_.”

Tony took a breath. It didn’t shake so much that time.

“ _Tony, it’s going to be okay_.” He whispered.

He would cry again. Tony would weep and sob and wreck his lab again and again at the memory of his kid, his son. His baby. He would scream for hours, lock himself away for days, and he would always have days where he blamed himself for it all.

But he would never forget the daisies on Mother’s Day. He would show Morgan the Spiderman suit, the first one he’d made, and one day, many years down the road, her little brother Parker would slip it on like it was made for him. He would watch Mary Poppins Returns once a month until he could quote it like a master, and he would visit Peter’s tombstone in the backyard of the Stark cabin and sing his favorite song to him. He would remember Peter Parker by his life, for his smiles, for his love.

And he would heal.

“ _I love you, Tony_.” Peter reached up to the camera, probably going to turn off his mask. “ _Like, three thousand or something. Don't miss me too much_.”

The hero pushed himself to his feet just as the video froze. Peter smiled at him from the hologram.

Tony smiled back.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Play the Mary Poppins Returns soundtrack, would you?”

“Of course, Boss.”

Tony ran his fingers across the Iron Spider suit softly and looked out the window.

The sun was rising.

He had better go and order those pizzas.

 

 _So when you need his touch_  
_And loving gaze_  
_Gone but not forgotten_  
_Is the perfect phrase_  
_Smiling from a star_  
_That he makes glow_  
_Trust he’s always there_  
_Watching as you grow_  
_Find him in the place_  
_Where the lost things go_

**Author's Note:**

> So, um, I don't own Marvel.  
> Yeah.  
> Also, I love Irondad/Spiderson.  
> Also, I loved Endgame.  
> Also, I'm still grieving. So take this.  
> As an author, I love comments. Feel free to shout at me all you want. I can take it.  
> Love you guys 3000!


End file.
